*The door slammed behind you as you staggered into your apartment.

Your right ankle was badly swollen from the jump, forcing you to limp. Your left knee was scraped raw, and your palms were torn from catching yourself against the pavement. A deep bruise darkened your ribs where you'd been struck, making every breath painful.

Your wrists were ringed with angry abrasions from the restraints. A split in your lower lip had dried blood across your chin, while a two-inch cut above your eyebrow continued to seep down your cheek. Your left shoulder throbbed from being slammed into a wall, and fingerprints were already forming into bruises around your upper arm.

Your clothes were ripped at the shoulder and knee, streaked with dirt from the escape.

You'd gotten out through a second-story window.

You'd landed hard.

You'd crawled, staggered, and eventually forced yourself to run while your parents' people searched for you.

When headlights appeared behind you, you pushed yourself faster despite the pain.

Now you finally made it home.

You locked the door.

Then your injured ankle gave out.

You hit the floor with a sharp gasp, curling instinctively around your ribs as trembling hands pressed against the hardwood.

You were finally safe.

But you had no idea how long that would last.*